Cold Case, Hot Accomplice

“Actually, I thought maybe you crawled out of a seashell. You’ve got the surfer dude attitude down pat,” she replied honestly.

“Surfer dude?” His amazing blue eyes stared at her blankly.

“You know, the shaggy sun-streaked hair, the laid-back attitude, the chicks that follow you around everywhere...” She allowed her voice to trail off, wondering how they had gotten so far off track.

“You obviously know nothing about me or my life, whatever your impression or my reputation might indicate.” There was a touch of irritation in his tone as he gestured her out of the room and down the hallway.

His cell phone rang, and he dug it out of his pocket and checked the caller identification. “I’ve got to take this. It’s a private call.” He ducked into the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

Probably one of those girlfriends of his, Roxy thought. She walked into the first bedroom that used to belong to Sheri and Marlene when they’d all been growing up together. It still held twin beds with pink spreads, two matching upright dressers and a single nightstand between the beds.

Rather than an array of clothing for two growing girls, the closet now held quilts already made and boxes of material and thread, along with a large standing hoop.

The bathroom door opened, and Steve rejoined her. “Sorry about that,” he said.

“There’s nothing missing.” Roxy thought they were wasting time and was irrationally irritated by his private phone call.

The second bedroom had been Roxy’s, but it had since been transformed into a storage area with shelves that held baking items, storage containers and utensils the small kitchen couldn’t hold.

By the time they reached Liz’s bedroom, Roxy had a mere finger grasp of patience left. Seeing the neatly made double bed where Roxy had often spent stormy nights snuggled with her aunt and younger sisters nearly cast her to her knees in worried grief.

She turned to Steve, who stood just outside the door in the hallway. “It’s all the same. Nothing is missing, so whatever happened to her didn’t involve a robbery. There are no signs of a struggle anywhere in the house. We’re wasting time here. It’s obvious she isn’t here, and there’s nothing to point to where she might be right now.”

“Roxy, this is all going to be a process of elimination. We had to check the house in order to eliminate any clues that might be here.” He spoke in slow, measured words, as if explaining something to a two-year-old.

Before she could respond, a knock sounded from the back door in the kitchen. Roxy started down the hallway to answer, but Steve grabbed her by the arm and pushed her behind him at the same time that he pulled his gun.

It was at that moment that Roxy realized two things—that Steve was taking this far more seriously than she’d thought he was, and that there was absolutely no guarantee of a happy ending.

* * *

The man at the back door wore a wide-brimmed straw hat, and a beard that instantly identified him as one of the Amish from the nearby settlement. The older man’s eyes widened as he saw Steve with his gun through the door window.

“That’s Mr. Zooker,” Roxy said from behind Steve. “Put your gun away before you give the poor man a heart attack.”

Steve holstered his gun and opened the door. The tall, muscular man was clad in the traditional white shirt and black trousers, and beyond him in the driveway Steve saw the horse and buggy that he’d arrived in.

His blue eyes softened as Roxy stepped in front of Steve. “Good morning to you, Mr. Zooker,” she said.

He nodded. “A good day to you. I have a delivery for your aunt. Could I speak to her?”

“I’m Detective Steve Kincaid.” Steve took control by once again stepping between Roxy and the man at the door.

“Abraham Zooker. Is there a problem with Mrs. Marcoli?” A line of concern deepened in his broad forehead.

“We aren’t sure. When was the last time you saw or spoke to her?”

Zooker frowned and pulled on the end of his long salt-and-pepper beard. “It would have been three weeks ago. I was at the Roadside Stop delivering some of my furniture to Miss Marlene and Miss Sheri when Mrs. Marcoli approached me and ordered a piece from me.”

“Was she expecting you today?” Steve asked.

“Not specifically. I told her I would deliver it once it was ready, and I’d planned a trip into town so I decided to attempt to deliver it today. If she isn’t here, I can always come back another time.”

“You’re here now so you might as well drop off whatever you brought. Have you been paid?” Roxy asked.

Abraham nodded. “I was paid in full when your aunt ordered the piece.” He backed away from the door. “I’ll be right back.”

Steve turned to Roxy. “What’s the story?”

“He’s one of the Amish who have been given permission to work with the English. He makes beautiful wooden furniture that Marlene and Sheri sell at their place, and he also has made several quilting racks for Aunt Liz.”

Steve knew that the Amish community closest to Wolf Creek was a progressive order. Although they used no electricity and continued the old tradition of traveling by horse and buggy, he’d heard that some of them were allowed running water in their homes and many did a brisk commercial trade with businesspeople in town. They had large farms and ran a dairy operation, and their horses and buggies and wide-brimmed straw hats were common sights in town.

Although Steve had been out to the settlement many times in the past, he had never met Abraham Zooker before.

“I get a lot of my cheese and dairy products from Abraham’s brother, Isaaic,” Roxy explained.

By that time Abraham had returned, carrying a beautifully crafted quilt display rack. Steve opened the door to allow the man to set the piece inside the kitchen. “She paid me for two, so there is another one that I should have ready in a couple of weeks,” he said.

“Why don’t you hold off on that one for now,” Roxy said, her eyes a simmering cauldron of emotion as she ran a hand lightly over the smooth wood of the piece. “I’ll get in touch with you when it’s time to start making the other one.”

“Your aunt is ill?”

“She’s missing. She hasn’t been seen since yesterday morning,” Steve replied.

“I will pray for her,” Abraham said.

“I’d appreciate it if you’d ask around your community whether anyone has seen her in the past twenty-four hours,” Steve said.

“Of course. We’ve always cooperated with authorities whenever necessary,” Zooker said. He looked at Roxy, his blue eyes once again softening. “I’m sorry for your worries, and I hope your aunt turns up well.”

“Thank you, Mr. Zooker,” Roxy told him. Steve noted the hint of tears in her eyes.

It stunned him. In the past twenty-four hours he’d seen her combative and rude, anxious and fearful, but he hadn’t seen tears.

As Abraham Zooker left, Roxy closed the door and leaned against it weakly, the glistening tears more pronounced as she stared at the quilt rack.

“Aunt Liz bought a rack and made a wedding ring quilt for Marlene when she got married. I’m guessing this one was in anticipation of whenever Sheri or I get married, even though I’ve told her a thousand times I have no intention of that.” The tears that had shimmered in her eyes released and trekked down her cheeks. “Where could she be, Steve? What could have happened to her?”

Steve knew he was about to take his life in his own hands, but he’d never seen a woman who looked more like she needed to be held than Roxy looked at that moment.

Knowing the danger, but unable to stop himself, he reached out and pulled her into an embrace. She stiffened against him and he tensed, expecting a knee to his jewels or a jab to his jaw, but instead she relaxed into him as a deep sob escaped her.

He tightened his arms around her, trying not to notice the press of her full breasts against his lower chest, how neatly her head fit just beneath his chin.

She felt good; she felt right in his arms, but she allowed it for only a handful of heartbeats and then she stepped back from him and swiped the tears off her cheeks.

“Wow, that won’t happen again,” she said, her voice filled with an appalled regret. “I never cry, and I definitely never cuddle.” She raised her chin defensively.

“Fine, then we’ll just chalk that up to you having something in your eye and we accidentally bumped into each other,” he replied drily.

It was obvious that the last thing Roxy Marcoli wanted was to appear vulnerable in any way. The angry defiance he sensed in her would hold her in good stead in the days to come. Hopefully it would fill up part of the space inside her that otherwise would be screaming in fear, dying of anxiety.

Steve knew very well the maelstrom of emotions flooding through Roxy, and he also knew her body and mind could only endure the high state of anxiety for so long.

She was with him now because she was in the first stages of disbelief and fear. Eventually, if Liz Marcoli wasn’t found, Roxy would have to figure out how to resume her life and work around the hole in her heart until some sort of closure was finally granted.

Steve was still waiting for closure in his own missing-persons case, and in the absence of that closure he’d adopted the laid-back “surfer dude” attitude to hide his own fear and pain. The day that his ex-girlfriend had kidnapped his son had been the moment Steve’s world had shattered. That had been two years ago, and during that time Steve had never stopped looking for the little boy he loved more than anything else on earth.

“So what happens next?” Roxy asked, pulling him from his thoughts.

He gave himself a mental shake. He had to stay focused on this missing-persons case.

He walked over to the counter where Liz’s purse was and looked inside. He pulled out her cell phone, punched a couple of numbers and frowned. “The history of incoming calls has been deleted.”

“So we don’t know who might have called Aunt Liz early Friday morning,” Roxy said flatly.

“We’ll drop the phone off at the station. Frank not only does magic with finding people—he’s also a rock star at getting this kind of information. The calls might be deleted from the phone, but the cell phone company will have the records.”

“And after we drop it off at the station?”

“Next we go talk to Patricia Burns. You told me yesterday that she was your aunt’s closest friend. Maybe she’ll know something about your aunt that you don’t know.”

Roxy shot him a tight grin. “Doubtful, but we have to do what we have to do.”

What was happening? Steve asked himself minutes later when they were back in his car after dropping off the phone at the station and heading to Patricia Burns’s house. What was he doing with Roxy like a mouse in his pocket, gnawing a tiny hole in his sanity?

He should have done the professional thing and sent her on her way that morning in the station. He wasn’t sure exactly how he had become we. He had two perfectly good partners to work with, and he didn’t need another one. He especially didn’t need one who’d felt so right pulled tight against his body, one who sent his adrenaline rushing whenever her eyes snapped with fire.

As soon as he interviewed Patricia Burns, he was taking Roxy right back to her car at the station and carrying on alone. He’d promise her frequent check-ins, but he needed to get her out of his pocket.

Patricia Burns lived two blocks away from Liz Marcoli in a neat ranch house that was identical to Liz’s except for the color.

Their knock was greeted by a petite woman with short salt-and-pepper hair and a worried expression in her brown eyes. She instantly grabbed Roxy’s hand. “No word?”

“No, nothing.”

Patricia nodded to Steve and then gestured them into a living room decorated in shades of blue. Steve introduced himself to her as he sat in a chair next to the sofa, where the two women sank down side by side.

“Can I get you something to drink?” Patricia asked.

“Thanks, but we’re fine,” Steve replied. “I understand you and Liz are good friends, Mrs. Burns,” he continued.

“Best friends, and, please, call me Treetie.” She smiled and patted Roxy’s hand. “When the girls were little they had trouble saying Patricia, and so I became Treetie and the nickname stuck.”

“Okay, Treetie, when was the last time you spoke to Liz?”

“Thursday night. We talked on the phone around eight.”

“Anything unusual going on with her? Anything she was worried about?” Steve took out his little pad and pen, ready to take any notes that might be pertinent to the case.

“No, nothing unusual. The only thing Liz ever worried about was the girls. She worried that Marlene was never going to get over her divorce and that Sheri would wind up being all alone with only the chipmunks for company. And, of course, she worried that Roxy would keep any man from ever marrying her because of her sharp tongue and the scars left from her early life with her mother.”

She patted Roxy’s hand as Roxy’s cheeks dusted with high color. “Sorry, honey, but that’s the truth.” She pulled her hand back from Roxy’s. “Other than that, Liz was enjoying her life. She had her baking that she did for the Dollhouse, she was planning her flower and vegetable garden and she had Edward.”

“Edward?” Steve asked.

“Edward?” Roxy parroted in confusion. “Who in the hell is Edward?”

Chapter 5

“Edward Cardell.” Treetie frowned and shot a quick glance at Roxy and then looked back at Steve. She drew a deep, reluctant sigh. “She didn’t want the girls to know about him.”

“What about him?” Roxy asked, her head beginning to spin.

“They were dating. They’ve been dating for quite some time.”

The air whooshed out of Roxy. Aunt Liz dating? She was positively stunned by the news. The very idea was as alien as a vegan in a meatpacking plant.

“Edward Cardell. Who exactly is he, and what do you know about him?” Steve asked, taking the words right out of Roxy’s mouth.

“Oh, dear.” Treetie looked worriedly at Roxy and then at Steve. “I told Liz she should have mentioned him to the girls a while ago, but she insisted that she wanted to keep things quiet for the time being. I think she was enjoying having a little secret all her own. Edward lives here in town. He’s a very nice gentleman, retired from the post office a couple of years ago. He’s been a widow for about three years, and he and Liz met one night at bingo about a year ago and hit it off.”

“Aunt Liz has been dating for a year?” Roxy wondered what other secrets her aunt might have had.

“Were Liz and Edward having any problems?”

Treetie frowned. “Not any real problems. The only issue was that Edward thought it was past time for Liz to come clean about him with the girls. He was ready to be a part of the entire family and was beginning to pressure her a bit to make their relationship more public.”

“And did that upset her?” Steve asked.

“No.” Treetie smiled. “Liz is a strong-willed woman, and there was really no question that she’d tell the girls only when she was good and ready. Edward knew that, and he’d push a little and she’d push back, but they never really fought about it. They’re wonderfully suited to each other.”

“Why would she want to keep him a secret?” Roxy asked, still reeling with the shock.

“She never wanted you girls to believe that anything or anyone came before you.”

Roxy’s heart squeezed tight. “But we’re all grown-up now. We’d be delighted if we knew that Aunt Liz had found somebody who made her happy. She deserved to have a life of her own after all the years she gave to us.”

Treetie smiled at her. “You know Liz—to her you all were always going to be her baby girls.”

The numbness that had washed over Roxy at various times since her aunt’s vanishing now overwhelmed her as Steve continued to question Treetie.

Was it possible that Aunt Liz was someplace with this Edward Cardell? That perhaps he had swept her away somewhere for a romantic weekend without her knowing his plans? Maybe she’d been so flustered by the unexpected event that she’d left her purse and forgotten about delivering the usual items to the restaurant.

There was a certain relief in that thought, and yet she couldn’t imagine Liz not insisting that before they go anywhere she take care of her duty in delivering the baked goods to Roxy for the day.

But look what men managed to do to your mother, a little voice whispered in the back of her head. Men and drugs had ruined Ramona’s life. Men often caused women to make bad choices. Wasn’t it possible Aunt Liz was so crazy in love that she’d been talked into being whisked away without any thought of Roxy or responsibilities?

By the time she and Steve got back in the car, the numbness that had overtaken Roxy had transformed to an excitement mixed with hopeful possibility. “We need to find this Edward Cardell,” she said as Steve started the car. “Maybe he and Aunt Liz are together somewhere.”

“Maybe,” Steve replied. “But the first thing we’re doing is heading back to the station. I want to check in with Frank and see if he’s managed to get a location on your mother or any information from Liz’s cell phone, and it’s time for this partnership to end.”

“What are you talking about?” Roxy asked. “We have a lead, Edward Cardell, and we should follow up on it immediately.”

“We aren’t doing anything, Roxy. I’m going to take you back to your car, and you need to get back to work at the Dollhouse or go talk to your sisters, or do whatever you want to do, but you aren’t coming with me.”

“Are you worried that being seen with me might make one of your other girlfriends mad?” she asked.

“Knock it off with the girlfriend thing, Roxy. It’s getting old. I’m doing my job, and it isn’t professional or right for you to be with me while I’m conducting an investigation.”

“It’s exactly right for me to be with you while you’re interviewing my aunt’s friends and acquaintances. If I hadn’t been here, I wouldn’t have known that Aunt Liz was seeing somebody.” A frantic feeling rose up inside Roxy. She had to be a part of this. She needed to be a part of it.

“A fact she obviously didn’t want you to know,” he returned.

Roxy chewed her thumbnail thoughtfully and then dropped her hand to her lap. “There’s only one reason why Aunt Liz would have kept her relationship with this Edward a secret, and that would have been because she thought we wouldn’t approve of him. Which means Edward probably wasn’t right for her. For all we know, he’s a serial killer or a sexual deviant.”

Steve shot her a quick glance, one of his dark blond eyebrows lifting. “Now you’re a matchmaker who knows what’s best for your aunt and an assassinator of character without even meeting this Edward?” he asked sarcastically.

“It’s the only thing that makes sense,” she countered.

“Maybe she just didn’t want to introduce him to you because she was afraid you’d be rude, judgmental and a control freak. She was probably afraid you’d scare him off.”

She drew in a sharp breath as he pulled his car to a halt in front of the police station. “And you’re a jerk, just like I always thought you were.” She got out of the car and slammed the door.

“Where are you going?” he asked as she headed for the station house door.

“I’m going to find out if your partner Frank has found out where my mother is.” She blew through the front door with Steve at her heels.

The cop at the counter buzzed them through, and she was grateful to see Frank Delaney at his desk. He started to rise when he saw her, but she quickly motioned him back down.

Steve stood next to her, and she realized she’d managed to tick him off. Not that she cared; he’d ticked her off, as well. First by telling her he was dropping her off here, and second by telling her that she was rude and judgmental.

“Have you located my mother?” she asked Frank, who immediately cast his blue eyes to Steve as if asking his permission to give her any information.

After getting a nod from Steve, Frank looked back at her and shook his head. “I haven’t been able to find out anything. Apparently she doesn’t have a vehicle registered in her name, there’s no address and she’s not working. She’s basically off the grid.”

Roxy sighed, not surprised. “She’s been off the grid for years. For all I know, she could be dead. Can you get me Edward Cardell’s address?”

“Roxy.” Steve’s voice held a steely warning. “I have your cell phone number. I’ll call you with any information I get.”

“Fine. Whatever.” She whirled on her heels, grateful that at least with her back to him he couldn’t see the tears that once again burned in her eyes.

She left the police station, got into her car and sat, unsure where she should go or what she should do but knowing she needed to do something. She couldn’t just go home and twiddle her thumbs while Aunt Liz was missing. She also wasn’t ready to share with her sisters what she’d found out, not until she knew more about this Edward Cardell.

Steve had called her a control freak. For crying out loud, of course she was a control freak. Otherwise she couldn’t manage a successful business, take care of herself and her sisters and stay sane. The first seven years of her life had been so wildly out of control that she now clung to control and refused to relinquish it for anything or anyone.

Her aunt was missing, and her entire world was turned upside down. She’d lost control of things, and she’d do whatever it took to find Aunt Liz and make her world right once again.

With this thought in mind, she started the car and pulled out of the parking space. She’d check in at the Dollhouse, where the lunch rush would be in full swing, and while she was there she’d check the phone book. Surely Edward Cardell would be listed, and along with his phone number there would be an address.

Unless he didn’t have a landline. If that was the case, then Roxy would get on her laptop to find him, or she’d walk the streets and ask people if they knew Edward and where he lived. The town wasn’t so big that somebody wouldn’t know him, especially if he had retired from the post office.

She didn’t need to be with Steve Kincaid to investigate. She could do it on her own.

Unfortunately, when she reached the Dollhouse she found things in chaos. One of the waitresses that Josie had called in to help cover Roxy’s absence hadn’t showed up, and although Josie was doing the best she could with the staff on hand, it wasn’t enough.

Roxy grabbed an apron and got to work. The afternoon passed in a haze, with Roxy alternating between the kitchen and the customers. Each time her cell phone rang she fumbled in her pocket to retrieve it, hoping it would be Steve calling to tell her he’d found her aunt with Edward Cardell and she was fine.

Instead, each call was from concerned friends or her sisters, checking in to see if there was anything new. By the time the restaurant closed at five, Roxy was exhausted and yet filled with a frustration that required some sort of action. She’d heard nothing from Steve all afternoon.

“Roxy, sorry about the mess this afternoon,” Josie said as Roxy pulled an old thin phone book off a shelf.

“It’s not your fault. You couldn’t know that Allie would get sick half an hour before she was due to show up. We managed just fine,” she said absently as she flipped through the phone book to the c’s.

“I haven’t seen you eat all day,” Josie said. “Have you eaten anything?”

Roxy frowned and looked at Josie. “Actually, I haven’t.” She looked back down at the phone book, a small edge of triumph yelling inside her as she found Edward Cardell. She memorized the address, then placed the phone book back on the shelf and looked at the clock on the wall.

It was five-thirty. Why hadn’t she heard from Steve by now? Surely he’d been to Edward Cardell’s place and had learned something.

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